


He Fell Asleep

by hqtsukki



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hqtsukki/pseuds/hqtsukki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the crash, the nightmares came back tenfold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Fell Asleep

Ever since Washington had been implanted with Epsilon, he'd been prone to nightmares. It drove him crazy, quite literally, at the beginning but over time, he learned how to function on minimal hours of sleep.

Wash had expected that skill to be as easy to remember as riding a bike was. It wasn't. Muscle memory just didn't account for running on empty. After he found his place in the Blue team, the nightmares had subsided. They became milder. He still woke up shaking and crying, but at least he could fall back asleep without the dream replaying on the back of his eyelids again and again.

After the crash, the nightmares came back tenfold. Every night it was screaming, fires, and dying soldiers all around him. Old memories were uprooted from their resting spot and horrid fears leaked back into his dreams. He woke up in cold sweats each night, trembling violently as he muffled sobs into his pillow. But he had a team to lead and he couldn't let it drag him down.

Wash had to give comfort to Caboose, train Tucker, fix a radio tower, and protect them against the antics of the Red team. He didn't have the time to try and get more sleep.

He should've taken a few moments to rest this morning though. The moment the shakes stopped, he had been up on his feet. By 'up on his feet', he really meant he managed a stumble out of his room. Caboose had been out in the hall, but he had been facing the wrong way. He even shouted his greeting in the wrong direction, but Wash figured it was as close as he was going to get.

His eyes burned each time he blinked and exhaustion weighed heavy in his muscles. Wash was even considering just laying on the floor and falling asleep, but even if he could, it wouldn't stop the nightmares that plagued him. Besides, if he started screaming in his sleep out in the hall, he might scare the shit out of Tucker or Caboose.

So he hurried out, grabbed his rations, wolfed them down, and went to wake up Tucker (who was once again sleeping naked).

"Goddammit, Tucker! How many times do I have to tell you to put on some fucking clothes before you listen?" Wash yelled, his voice taking on a shrill tone as he turned his head when Tucker dragged himself out of bed.

"It's comfortable, Wash. Try it sometime," Tucker drawled teasingly. Wash could feel his smirk.

"Private, I'm going to break you. Your legs might just stop working after we’re done. Get on your armor, we're doing laps around our side of the canyon," Wash snapped.

"Bow chicka bow wow. You always say that but so far, you haven't fulfilled your promise," Tucker mused as he pulled on his sweatpants.

"Just... meet me outside," Wash sighed as he turned and trudged out of the room. Tucker didn't say anything, he just watched him go. The ex-agent went back to his room, passing by Caboose who was still tucked in a corner. He slipped inside and when he closed the door behind him, he leaned on it heavily. A dizzy feeling washed over him, fuzzy spots trickling into his vision.

He really should've taken a break this morning.

So instead he quickly and methodically pulled on his armor, and jogged out. His armor felt heavier than usual. He figured it'd feel lighter after a few laps.

When Wash made it outside, he was shocked to see a certain teal soldier already out there.

"Twelve laps. No slacking and no lying. I'll know this time if you did all of the laps," Wash said as he walked up, glancing over Tucker as if he was a mirage. He still didn't quite believe he was out here before him.

"Hey, it's not my fault you weren't paying attention! Besides, that’s four more laps than last time!" Tucker groaned.

"It's the four you skipped," Wash rolled his eyes.

"Aw man, this is fuckin’ bullshit," the teal soldier grumbled.

"Just start running, private," Wash grimaced. Tucker started jogging and Wash fell into place beside him.

He was fine for the first lap. If anything, he felt better than he did when he woke up.

The second lap was a little harder.

Third lap and Wash was panting into his helmet. His feet had started dragging, just as Tucker's had been doing since the beginning of the first lap.

Wash should've known something was wrong when his chest began constricting erratically during the fourth lap.

He was half-way through the fifth lap when he felt like he just couldn’t keep his eyes open. Wash kept blinking, trying to ward away the impossible heaviness weighing on his eyelids. Empty noise buzzed in his vision and filled his lungs. Something’s wrong. The thought itself was simple but the voice that said it screamed. They’re screaming so loud and he could hear someone else wailing in fear. We’re going down fast! There's no stopping it! A cacophony of screaming and crying filled his ears. A quiet thought drifted through the chaos. _We killed them, didn’t we? We’re alone, so alone. Washington, you’re alone._

Wash hit the ground before he could scream.

When he came back around, he’s stuck under debris. A plate of crumpled steel all but smashed his legs to the floor. Wash knew he should be in pain; no human body was ever meant to contort in the way he’s bent. He can’t feel any pain, hell, he can barely see anything. Fire engulfed the space around him and with each breath, he’s sucking in ash. It doesn’t hurt though. He can feel the sting and the burn as he hacks up a cough but it doesn’t hurt. Wash could hear cracking and snapping. He knew it was coming from the piece of steel that hung over his head by tightly woven metal ropes. The heat from the fire was warping the ropes and they were beginning to break. A limping figure made their way through the fires then. The grey plating of their armor blended in with the smoke but Wash could still see them. As the figure got closer, Wash finally recognized them. It’s him. He watched himself glance down at him before turning and running out, calling someone’s name. Wash can feel the pain now as it lanced through each broken bone, each horribly twisted joint. His lungs burned like they’re the ones that have been set on fire and he can’t breathe. A great metallic snap sounded from above him and he screamed as the steel piece heaved itself downwards and smashed into his chest.

Wash woke up still screaming, his body seized up so tightly it felt like the muscle underneath his skin was about to separate from his bones.

“Wash! Holy shit, Washington!” Wash’s eyes snapped open and he saw Tucker panicking as he stood over him. Tucker took a step forward and Wash pushed away from him, gasping in breaths of air. His cheeks felt wet and he shook violently. It was a nightmare, fuck, is all he can think as he tried to gain control of himself.

“Wash?” Tucker asked, concern heavy in his tone, “Are you alright?”

Wash just stared at him with wide eyes. Was this the same Tucker that slept naked, made sexual innuendos every other sentence, and complained each time they trained? As he sat up, still shaking, he realized that he was now in the base. It was one of the rooms. If Wash wasn't too busy trying not to pass out again, he would've noticed they were in Tucker's room.

“You passed out while we were doing laps. I had to go find Caboose to carry you back here,” Tucker said, noticing his confusion.

"You scared the shit out of us. Caboose only just stopped blubbering about you." As Tucker spoke, he rubbed his arm awkwardly like he wasn't sure what to do. Wash stared down at his hands. Fatigue hung on his every cell so heavily that the ex-agent was surprised it wasn't pulling him through the floor. He laid back against the bed.

"I apologize," Wash managed to say. His voice was hoarse, worn out from screaming.

"Why did you pass out?" Tucker asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I..." Wash began but instead trailed off. He knew exactly why but Christ, it made him sound like an idiot. He passed out because he didn't get enough sleep, who does that?

"...tell me later, just rest for right now," Tucker said quietly. Wash didn't need to be told twice. His eyes fluttered shut and he was out cold before he could consider the possibility of another nightmare.

The feeling of smoke flooding his lungs was the first thing that greeted him when he woke up. His eyes snapped open and he immediately regretted it. The ash that hung thickly in the air stung his eyes harshly. He could barely see through the fire that was consuming the room around him. Where was he? Was he still at the base? Heat slammed into his body. He needed to get out. Wash struggled to pull himself off of the bed, his limbs so weak he was almost limp. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Wash dragged his way over the edge of the bed and hit the ground hard. Pain blossomed through his arm and he gasped, but no sound left his lips. In fact, for the first time since waking up, he noticed there was absolutely no sound. When he opened his mouth to try and make a noise, someone stumbled through the doorway. Speared through their chest was a shard of metal, long and thick. Blood streamed out from around the shard, pouring down teal armor. Wash’s eyes widened. Teal? He opened his mouth, desperate to scream Tucker’s name or just anything. Yet, he just helplessly watched as Tucker dropped to his knees in front of him and fell onto his hands. Tucker’s helmet tumbled off and Wash soundlessly wailed in horror as he set eyes upon his burned face. Flames washed over the two of them just as his hearing returned. Through the roars of the fire and his own screaming, he heard someone calling his name.

He woke up screaming, again. Wash found himself on the floor, thrashing against the concrete. Someone was calling his name. He couldn’t tell over his own shrieking.

“Wash, please, wake up! I’m begging you, come on… David!”

That managed to knock Wash back into reality. His screams died and he reluctantly opened his watery eyes. Tucker knelt next to him, his hands suddenly going to gently cup Wash’s face.

“Wash? You with me?” he asked, searching his face. Wash nodded, tears pooling in his eyes as he stared at Tucker. Tucker was okay. A whine sounded from the back of the ex-agent’s throat and he couldn’t find himself to be embarrassed, not in his current state. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Tucker’s waist, pulling himself closer to bury his face into his stomach. As he began to break down, Tucker threaded his fingers through Wash’s hair. He murmured comforting words softly as he waited for Wash to quiet down.

It took Wash a while to finally calm down. He laid curled up on the floor, his head rested on Tucker’s lap. Tucker’s fingers lazily stroked the back of his neck. Wash glanced up at him and Tucker offered him a small smile.

“You handled that well,” Wash whispered, finally breaking the silence.

“Your nightmare? Yeah, Junior used to have them almost every night. I’d lay with him until he could fall back asleep again,” Tucker replied quietly, shrugging.

“Junior?”

“If I answer, can I ask you a question?”

“I guess…” Wash frowned a bit, wondering what he would ask.

“Well, Junior’s my son. It’s a long story that involves an alien and the pain of giving birth,” Tucker snorted a soft laugh before he continued, “Now, it’s my turn. Why did you pass out?”

“That’s the one question that you’re going to ask me?”

“Yes. If anything, I should get two questions now.” At that, Wash rolled his eyes.

“Christ, well… I haven’t exactly been getting a lot of sleep for a while,” the ex-agent admitted, grumbling quietly as he looked away. The fingertips that continued to draw mindless shapes on the back of his neck pressed a bit harder for a moment, calling his attention back at Tucker.

“Is it the nightmares?” Tucker asked, tilting his head to the side. Wash didn’t answer, he just clenched his jaw. He was supposed to be their leader. Good leaders didn’t pass out during training because they didn't sleep enough. People weren't supposed to do that, period. Tucker tugged on a lock of his blonde hair, drawing him away from his thoughts.

"Yes," he hissed, "goddamn."

Tucker hummed, nodding. Silence stretched between them and just as Wash was going to say something, Tucker interrupted him.

"Come on, I want to try something," he said quietly, nodding towards the bed. Wash gave him a wary look but sat up anyways, too tired to care. Tucker got up and helped Wash up onto his feet. The ex-agent leaned heavily on Tucker, huffing softly. Tucker dragged them both to the bed and pushed Wash onto it gently. When Wash rolled over, Tucker laid down on the space he had left empty. Wash stiffened and he glanced at Tucker over his shoulder.

"What exactly are we trying?" he asked, his voice dry.

"Shut up, you're going to sleep and I'm gonna help," Tucker snorted.

"How?" Wash questioned warily.

"Just calm down, Jesus," Tucker sighed. He slowly wrapped an arm around Wash's waist and pulled him closer. It took some time for Wash to relax and when he did, he went practically boneless against Tucker's chest. He was so exhausted, he figured this couldn't hurt.

For the third time that day, he fell asleep. This time however, he woke up on his own account. Tucker had both of his arms wrapped around Wash's waist, sleeping soundly pressed up against him.

He blinked his eyes in surprise when he didn't feel his usual fatigue. Instead of his eyelids being heavy with sleeplessness, they were heavy with actual sleep. Wash's lips curved into a small smile and he settled back against Tucker, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Wash was able to enjoy the peace for all of two minutes, until he heard Caboose shouting his name and something about some freckles from the hallway.


End file.
